Unveiling
by Ranchoth
Summary: In a world "around the corner," young Future Industries CEO Asami Sato lost both parents at an early age. She doesn't make the same mistakes her father would have...she makes BETTER ones.


**"Unveiling"**

Sato's shoes _click-clacked_ down the hangar floor as she ticked off the list for the dozenth time, mentally—mascara, check; banner gown blouse in tasteful Ada Checkers print, meticulously calculated to fall short of dowdy or flashy; _pha sin_ neatly folded; Arañid weave vest with plate carrier, carefully concealed beneath…_so far, so good_…

She'd timed her walk down to the half-second…perfectly, as it turned out. A crack of daylight appeared ahead just as she passed the tarped metal columns, five paces behind. She heard the muffled voice beyond, but didn't bother listening for the press flack's cue.

She didn't need to change her speed, even by a hair—her shoulders cleared the opening doors by a nail width _exactly_ one second after the voice outside announced "_…ustries CEO, Asami Sato!"_

Asami turned on a smile as she emerged to applause, and stabbing lights. The morning sun was blinding enough, even with the _Sugi Swoose_'s massive old hangar opening westward…she could only _hope_ the photogs remembered not to waste _all_ their flashbulbs on her dress.

Her vision had cleared enough to scan the crowd as she reared up the steps to the podium. The usuals from the papers, local-national-foreign, up front; the two big Televisor vans, as expected, parked further behind on the slipway…that's where the major cover-and-concealment would be. She immediately spotted the three security men she'd had planted in the crowd, plus the two who had to be from Bei Fong. Otherwise, just a lot of smiling, eager faces…

The concrete looked clean, and dry. _Good_…if they hadn't had to scrub it again, the Bee-Gulls were staying away. Setting out poisoned bait did the trick. It wouldn't do to get the paint messed up in front of the cameras...

She said her thank-yous to the flack and to the audience, peppered with a good morning or a welcome-thank-you-for-coming, and began.

"My late father-" words that still stung, after all these years, but it was like an old break. She moved on, seamlessly. "-named our company 'Future Industries' for a reason. He saw the present world as something not to be added to, not to be 'fixed,' but to be supplanted. To build something new, perfect, from a clean fresh start."

"I'm not my father, and the world isn't yet the one he dreamed of…but today, the time has come for us to _all_ take one great step forward."

Her ears picked up the soft rustle of canvas behind her—they were dropping the tarp. Early. Didn't matter—too dark for the audience too see inside, if they weren't looking too hard. _If_…she moved on.

"In the early days of our fine city's refounding, the peace was kept in part by a unique band. Forged from disparate groups, cross-national-"—she used the latest "polite" term. Academic, really. It wasn't a bias she personally indulged in, and "half breed" bigotry had been old hat almost since the day of old Morishita herself, but there was no need to stoke any old fires. "—militias, Continental rebels, and the remnants of the Yu Dao garrison."

"Our modern Police force, Metalbenders and no, trace their lineage directly back to this force. And I think they've done a pretty good job…but things have become a little rougher out there…"

This was the key part…too condemning, too alarmist, and risk alienating the potential buyers. Not alarmist _enough_, and come across as blasé, or out of touch, which would metastasize into doubts about the usefulness of the product. Or help reassure them against the need to buy one. Which was just as bad… "And they—_we_—need now the capability of meeting-" _don't say my don't say our don't say my don't say our_ "-the enemy on it's own turf." The hangar doors started rumbling open completely—Asami locked her head forward, dialed up the smile. But she could admit to herself that it wasn't even half an act. "And thus, it gives me great pleasure to give, for your consideration…_the future._"

She spread her hands in a flourish, just as the shadow passed over from behind. The crowd shrank bank—someone shrieked, from the rear; even the reporters hesitated a blink before the flashbulbs exploded again.

…right as the five yard long metal column swung past Sato's hand, and planted it's foot to the ground with a heavy blow. Followed closely by another as the big machine _walked_ out, and took up it's command stance before the eyes of the city.

Asami braced herself as the podium quietly wheeled to the side, while the crowd's attention drawn away. She almost found herself wishing she was down there with them, getting the good view of the machine, instead of a glorified show model...

But to hell with it…she was fine where she was. Everyone else would marvel at the cinnabar highlights and the seven-decades-old vintage guardsmans' styling of the giant's outer armor…she'd always be listening to the creak of actuators, the bouquet of oil…

The next cue—the best one—was coming next. The machine's head pivoted, sweeping it's gaze across the crowd, before it spread it's massive hands open…

And _spoke_.

"_Do Not Be…Alarmed. I Am Here To Serve and Protect._"

There was only the briefest of pauses before the air _roared_ with voices—Asami was bathing in the blinding platinum gleam off of her juggernaut's skin...She quietly cranked up the amplifier knob on her microphone pedestal a few pegs. "Completely autonomous, commanded by our pioneering on-board Tsukumogatic technology, with state-of-the-art 'defensive'"—she glanced right over that land mine without even a twinge of coaching; 'felt it just enough to feel pride over it—"capability, and all but impervious to conventional attack, in every way an improvement over any existing law enforcement apparatus. These _machines_ represent the future of urban pacification."

The emphatic pleural was supposed to get their attention, which didn't seem to have worked, but it was the signal. A heavy thudding rattled the ground again…

…as two more units sortied out of the hanger, taking up the flanks of Unit Zero-Zero in parallel.

As Sato watched the one pass closest to her, she was able to look straight into the smokey blue glow behind the thing's eyes as it made it's way forward…curiously, it almost seemed to hold her gaze for a moment. It had to be her imagination…

She filed it away; she didn't need the distraction. Not when she was _already_ imagining worst-case-scenarios—she'd spotted a few shutterbugs sparkbending for their light source. It was paranoid, but the thought of what would happen if one of the units interpreted that as an attack…in the middle of a bigger crowd than they'd ever been tested with…

But they didn't even twitch. _Paranoid_—and the safeties were in place, even if they'd had. But she couldn't help feel reassured that the units weren't even armed, yet.

_Yet_…

"I'm sure everyone has a lot of questions; I'll be happy to field a few before I turn things back to Mr. Fujikawa…" She was already rolling up her list of truths/half-truths/ad copy/lies/artful dodges…_'Did you personally design these machines?' 'Well-I-did-pick-out-the-colors (pause-for-laughter)' 'no-the-Republic-Council-has-had-no-involvement-at-this-time' ''private-army''-is-a-contradiction-in-terms-and-insultingly-misleading-private-enterprise-has-a-right-and-an-interest-in-public-safety-no-less-than-the-ordinary-public'…_etcetera, etcetera. "…yes, you?"

"Hui-Te Chang, _Laba Daily. _Miss Sato…what do you _call_ them?"

Asami smiled. She hadn't even had to wait for one of the plants.

"The sentries of our city's police forebears adopted the name _Kuān Xǐng_…their _latest_ descendants will carry on their tradition, but have a lot to live up to. So for the time being, I simply call them…"

"…_Sentinels_."

Notes:

Heavily inspired by Lavanya Six's "Captain America's Second World War" Avatar/Marvel ficlet—she has my apologies.

I honestly don't know if anything more'll ever come of this one—but I think I slipped in enough hints and foreshadowing that you can still see where it'd head, all by itself. Time will tell.

Presentation dialogue rather shamelessly cribbed from Robocop and Robocop 2, with a hint of Iron Man—I think that still counts as mood-setting homage and a ghoulish in-joke.

I counted at least…two, maybe three horrible Mandarin puns/obscure in-jokes that I made. But I scrapped one in Nahuatl. You're welcome.


End file.
